


I'm All Shook Up For You

by riots



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 03:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2452853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riots/pseuds/riots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“As it turns out, forgetting my book might have just been an excuse to talk to you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm All Shook Up For You

“Hey, look, your admirer is back.”

Yifan looks up from where he's tidying things behind the bar to see one of their regulars approach the register. He smiles at Zitao, making a little bit of small-talk as he pays. He's a sweet kid, Kyungsoo. Small, smiling, always polite. He comes in every afternoon during the week with a well-worn paperback, something from the library, orders a latte, and takes a seat in the table by the door. If he were Jongdae, he might take note of the fact that Kyungsoo always makes sure to face the cash register, but he doesn't.

“I hardly think that a caffeine addiction counts qualifies as a crush on me,” Yifan says dryly. He picks up Kyungsoo's cup and starts making his coffee.

Jongdae pats Yifan's face with sticky hands and Yifan grimaces, shying out from under Jongdae's touch. “Sure,” Jongdae agrees amiably. Yifan's coworkers are kind of the worst human beings. He does his best to glare Jongdae down, but his self-satisfied, cat-like grin doesn't flag. He's also too nimble, dodging the elbow that Yifan throws his way to scoot up to help Zitao at the cash.

“Hi!” It's hard to be too resentful of anything when Kyungsoo beams at him. Over halfway through his work day, and he's still cheerful, smiling up at Yifan with those big eyes. “Slow today, huh?”

“You've got good timing,” Yifan tells him. He's made Kyungsoo's drink enough times that he doesn't even have to think as he goes through the motions. “You came during a lull.” Behind him, as he makes his way into the back room, Jongdae is singing under his breath. It's a love song. Yifan makes sure to carefully set down Kyungsoo's coffee before he stomps on Jongdae's foot, hard. He's not even _flirting_. What is Jongdae's problem, anyway?

Kyungsoo watches them with curious eyes, but he doesn't ask. He toys with the buttons of one of his cuffs. “So you've got a bit of time to talk?” he asks, his tone casual. His cheeks are pink, and Yifan pauses before he hands over the coffee. Huh. Maybe Jongdae's got something there.

Although Kyungsoo's already got his hand out, ready to accept his drink, Yifan takes a second to carefully slide a drink sleeve onto the cup. “It's hot,” he explains to Kyungsoo, who takes the coffee with both hands, looking pleased. Yifan wipes his hands on his apron and glances up at the cash. Zitao is juggling bananas again, tongue between his teeth in concentration, and the shop is empty. “I've got a minute,” he says. He leans over the counter. “Don't you usually read right now? Your table isn't taken.”

Kyungsoo taps his fingers against his cup, ducking his head. Yifan has to bite back his smile. “Forgot my book,” Kyungsoo offers, his eyes flicking back up to meet Yifan's. It has the sound of an excuse, and Yifan is inexplicably charmed. He rests his chin in his hand.

“Oh,” Jongdae emerges again from the back room and leans over Yifan's shoulder. “You _forgot_ your book? That's too bad.” Yifan wonders idly if strangling your coworker with his apron is frowned upon. There's a good chance he's going to do it anyway. “I think we've got some magazines in the back – ” His voice cuts off sharply and Jongdae gives Yifan a wounded look. He really should know better than to underestimate the value of a well-placed elbow.

“Jongdae,” Yifan says, and his tone says command, not suggestion. “There are things to be counted. Elsewhere. Maybe you should go do that.”

Hand rubbing at his belly, Jongdae grimaces. “Yes, sir.”

When Yifan looks back at Kyungsoo, he's got this little pleased grin on his face, shoulders squared and his eyes fixed on Yifan. To cover up his discomfort, Yifan straightens and clears his throat, busying his hands with wiping down the counter. “So, nothing to read, and I'm your next choice for entertainment?”

Kyungsoo coughs and blinks furiously, clearly fumbling for words. “Well, I mean...”

“You could have picked Zitao,” Yifan says. He points with his thumb up the counter, to where Zitao has switched to balancing an apple on his nose. He's always had superb balance, and Yifan is begrudgingly impressed with how he manages to keep the apple up, despite Jongdae making swipes for it. Jongdae whines when Zitao uses his height to his advantage, pinning him to the counter with his long arms. Children. “He's the entertaining one. He'd probably fit right in at a circus.”

Zitao straightens his head, still not letting Jongdae near him. The apple rolls down and lands neatly in Zitao's palm. “I heard that,” he calls, lips turning down a little at the corners. Yifan just smirks at him.

“As it turns out,” Kyungsoo says, turning his cup around in his hands, eyes glued determinedly on his coffee. “Forgetting my book _might_ have just been an excuse to talk to _you_.” His cheeks turn even pinker, and this time, Yifan can't hold back his smile.

“Oh yeah?” Yifan asks, all casual. He just can't help himself.

Kyungsoo finally drags his eyes up to look at Yifan again, a determined light in his gaze. “Yes,” he says, almost fiercely, but the defensive set to his shoulders melts almost as soon as he sees Yifan's smile. “Although, I can't imagine why.” He takes a sip of his latte and Yifan is kind of entranced by the spark he's seeing. Kyungsoo's got more fire than Yifan would've expected.

“Oh, now that's a good opener,” Yifan snorts. “Start with an insult, keep him on his toes.” He turns deliberately to wipe down the counters behind him, putting his back to Kyungsoo.

“That's not what I meant!” Kyungsoo replies hastily. “I just –” His eyes widen when Yifan laughs and turns again, tucking his fingers into his pockets. “I. You. You're the worst!” Kyungsoo's eyebrows are so high they're practically hidden by his hair and his tongue darts out nervously over his full bottom lip, but the corners of his mouth pull irrepressibly up.

Yifan holds out a hand in apology. “Sorry,” he says, and he does mean it. He hears the door chime as customers enter, and does his best not to be too disappointed. “You just make it so easy.”

“Is Zitao so mean?” Kyungsoo asks. He looks up at Yifan through his eyelashes as he takes a sip of his coffee. “Maybe I should go talk to him, instead. He's not quite as tall but juggling could come in handy.”

One eye on the cups that Zitao's setting out for him, Yifan lays a hand over his heart. “Ouch,” he deadpans. “I'm wounded. Was height the only qualification for this job?” Another chime as more customers come into the shop, and Zitao is eyeing the empty cups meaningfully. He's on the clock, he can't ignore his job. He sets about preparing drinks, trying to push back the tiny pang of regret when Kyungsoo takes a step back.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo says sweetly. He glances at the line of customers accumulating and shrugs a little. “I guess I'll stop distracting you now. I have to get back to work anyway.” His teeth dig into his full bottom lip and he lingers near the end of the bar.

“You're not a distraction,” Yifan assures him. As soon as he speaks, of course, he manages to get syrup all over his hands and he flushes. Smooth. Real smooth. He hurries to the sink to wash off his hands and next to him, pouring a coffee, Jongdae laughs. Yifan shoots a glare at him, but man, he wishes Jongdae was still susceptible to his anger.

“Sure,” Kyungsoo says. “I guess I'll see you later?”

Yifan wipes his wet hands on his apron. “Yeah, sure,” he calls over his shoulder.

It wasn't the answer that Kyungsoo was hoping for. He nods and slips away from the counter before Yifan can add a real goodbye or even wave to him, and Yifan feels a bit like an idiot. He hands off the drink he'd been making to the customer waiting for it. “Oh,” Zitao says quietly, coming to help him with the drink backlog. “That's why I never see you really flirt with anyone. Because you're so _bad_ at it.”

Behind the cash register, Jongdae tips his head back and laughs and Zitao beams at Yifan. He's about to retort when he gets syrup all over himself _again_ and Jongdae just laughs louder. Yifan is pretty sure his life is in a shambles. He wonders, as he washes his hands, if this is some kind of harassment he can get them fired for. Maybe the fruit juggling is a misuse of company supplies. There has to be something. He glares down at his sticky hands and scrubs at them fiercely.

Zitao pats his shoulder. “It's okay,” he says. “Even if you are a loser, sometimes people find that endearing.” Yifan's jaw works and he's pretty sure he deserves an award. After all, it's sheer force of will that he's not actively strangling the both of them right now. And the thought of closing the shop alone.

“Yifan?” He takes a second to compose himself before he turns, but his customer-service ready mask fades when he sees it's Kyungsoo. He holds up a scrap of paper. “If you want,” he says, holding it out. He looks very determined.

Before Zitao or Jongdae can interfere, Yifan grabs it from Kyungsoo's hand. He opens his mouth to say something but Kyungsoo is already gone again, and when he turns the paper over in his fingers, he realizes it's a phone number. His face splits into a huge smile.

Yifan stuffs the paper into his pocket, but not before Zitao peeks over his shoulder. “See?” he says smugly.

Jongdae is still wearing that huge, toothy grin. “I'm going to kill you both and replace you with monkeys,” Yifan tells them. “They'd be more obedient.” He turns to Zitao. “Can your circus spare some?” It's only the coffee in his hand that spares him from Zitao's wrath, he's sure, but it's about time that he got some slack, anyway.

When things slow down again, Yifan fishes his phone out of his pocket, and after a second's hesitation, the slip of paper with Kyungsoo's number on it. Zitao does his best to peek at what Yifan is sending, but Yifan waves him away. “Go bus the tables,” Yifan says. Zitao opens his mouth to object and Yifan points a finger at himself. “Manager.” He points at Zitao. “Minion. Shoo.” Zitao's shoulders slump, his head lolls back, and he sighs audibly, dragging his feet as he makes his way out from behind the counter. So dramatic.

 _hey it's Yifan. are you busy tomorrow night?_ It's a simple enough question, but still, Yifan's stomach clenches with anticipation. He has to wait for the answer, phone heavy in his pocket as he rings through customers at the cash.

Fifteen minutes later, as he's sweeping up before close, his pocket vibrates. _that was fast._ It makes Yifan blink down at the screen and exhale in a burst, almost a laugh. He leans on the broom and stares down at the text. What does he say to that? It's too familiar, but in a way that sets off a slow burning warmth in his ribs.

He doesn't have to worry too much, though, because the second text arrives in a minute. _but no i'm not busy._

“Aren't we supposed to be closing up, duizhang?” Zitao teases, and Yifan prods him in the gut with the broom handle. The satisfaction of it is lost when Zitao catches it with a deft hand and yanks it away from Yifan, flipping it around to menace him instead.

“We are,” Yifan says. “Thanks for offering to finish sweeping up.” He smiles and grabs the cash tray, heading to the back to count it.

The broom droops in Zitao's hand. “You are a terrible manager,” Zitao calls after him, a bit forlorn. Yifan makes a mental note to treat Zitao to lunch the next time he's in to make it up to him. He's always been a bit soft for Zitao's pout.

He sends off a quick reply before he sits down to count. _how about dinner?_ When his phone sounds off loudly against the desk, it's an exercise of Yifan's will to finish up what he's doing instead of just jumping to see what Kyungsoo has sent him. It surprises him, how just this has anticipation buzzing pleasantly under his skin.

Yifan only checks his phone again when he's tugging his jacket on. _is this a date?_

Before he can reply, Zitao snatches his phone out of his hand. “A date!” he says, delighted. “A date. I am so proud of you, duizhang.” His tone is just condescending enough that Yifan scowls, but he hands the phone back easily enough. “He's cute,” Zitao adds as an afterthought. He tips his head to the side and grins.

“Thank you for your approval,” Yifan grumbles, and Zitao pats his shoulder.

“That's what I'm here for,” he says sagely, and then he's whipping out his own phone. “That,” he says, words slow, distracted as he dashes off a text. “And to make your life a living hell.” Yifan is hit with the slow, sinking feeling that his business has just made it to the phones of every one of their friends and also probably some acquaintances that Zitao thinks would find it funny. Zitao beams at him. “See you tomorrow.”

It's a sense of responsibility that leads Yifan to lock up before he finally answers Kyungsoo. That, and maybe a tiny bit of apprehension about making that move. Only a tiny bit, really. _yep. i hope that's cool with you._

He's halfway home when he gets his reply, and he grins to himself. _oh good. should i dress up?_

_nothing too fancy. remember, i manage a coffee shop._

_i know, i'm using you for the free coffee._ That one makes Yifan laugh and shake his head as he walks through the door to his apartment.

The smile sticks to Yifan's face for most of the next day. Working with the public isn't always the easiest job, especially if you're in the food service industry. People get tetchy when they need their coffee fix, and they usually take it out on their poor barista. Today, though, today, Yifan doesn't even mind the snappy businesswomen or men in suits. He just keeps smiling.

“That is unsettling,” Lu Han tells him when he and Yixing come in on their lunch break. He points at Yifan with his cookie. “Didn't you open today? You should have on your face of Grim Acceptance.” He narrows his eyes a little and Yixing uses the distraction to snatch the cookie from his hand. “Does this have something to do with your tiny stalker?” Thank you, Zitao.

“You're holding up the line,” Yifan says, amused. He waves them off, but as they go to claim a table Yixing turns to look over his shoulder, gesturing at his eyes and mouthing 'we're watching you'. Yifan has lovely friends. He really does.

Kyungsoo doesn't show up that afternoon, and Yifan is a little bit disappointed. Only a little bit, really, because he's got more to look forward to tonight. The problem is, as the evening approaches, Yifan gets more and more antsy. He leaves the shop in Jongdae's mostly capable hands (“If you mess this up, I will not hesitate to fire you,” Yifan tells him, gaze hard enough that Jongdae takes a step back and nods, eyes wide and wary) and hurries home to get ready.

Of course, as luck would have it, his roommates are home. “Better start getting ready now,” Yixing calls to him as soon as he walks through the door. He and Lu Han are sprawled out on the couch, Yixing's head on Lu Han's chest. “Today's not a day you want to skip on your beauty regimen.” Lu Han laughs and Yifan sighs, dumping his scarf and jacket on their heads.

Yifan finds himself annoyingly indecisive when he's trying to get dressed. He tears through his wardrobe at least twice before he flops down on his bed, a hand in his hair. He wants to look nice, but not _too_ nice, because he doesn't want Kyungsoo to feel too pressured, like this is a Big Deal. But what's the line? Those slacks make his legs look miles long but are they dressy?

“You're thinking too much,” Yixing says from the doorway, smile fond. He tips his head. “You really like him, huh?”

“He surprised me,” Yifan says. That's sort of an answer, right?

Lu Han comes up behind Yixing and hooks his chin on his shoulder. “Duizhang's got a crush,” he sing-songs. When Yifan levels a glare at him, he just grins. “Oh, come on, you giant sad sack. Let's get you dressed.”

Yixing and Lu Han launch themselves at Yifan's wardrobe, and he's hit with a sense of dread. “How about this?” Yixing asks, brandishing a bright orange, oversized sweater. Yifan sighs, rubbing at his temples. He's about to snap at him when he sees the mischevious glint in Yixing's eyes. He's trying to get Yifan to relax. “I think it sets off the yellow in your fried hair.”

“How about I smother you with it instead?” Yifan says pleasantly, and when Lu Han steps between them, raising his fists, he can't help but laugh.

After more arguing and ridiculous suggestions (“Where do you even _get_ shiny gold pants, anyway?”), they finally manage to come to a consensus on an outfit. Yifan stands in front of the mirror and brushes his hands down his front critically. He has to admit, his shoulders look great in this shirt. This will do.

“God, we're good,” Lu Han says from his spot on the bed. He's sitting between Yixing's knees, arms resting on his legs. “We have polished the diamond in the rough.” He looks so smug and satisfied.

Yifan scowls at him in his reflection. “ _I'm_ the one who picked this out,” he points out.

Yixing toys with Lu Han's hair. “Yes,” he says patiently. “But _we_ okayed it.” His smile is sweet as sugar and grating on Yifan's nerves.

Getting in a fist fight before a date is probably not a good way to ensure the night turns out well. Yifan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He's zen. He's not annoyed or anxious or anything. He's not.

“Calm down,” Lu Han advises him. Yifan turns around to face them, pulling nervously at his hair one last time. “You look great but when you're worried about something, your face makes you look like you're trying to make someone's head explode with your mind. Generally speaking, not a turn on.”

“Nope,” Yixing agrees.

It's shitty, in terms of pep talks, but it's honest, and the anxious tension in his shoulders eases a little. “Thanks,” he says begrudgingly.

“You're welcome,” Lu Han tells him. He stands and holds out Yifan's jacket. “Now go get your little man.”

Unfortunately, being alone on the drive to Kyungsoo's place allows him too much time to start thinking again. Is his hair too much? Maybe he should've styled it up. At a light, he glances at his phone. There's a _duizhang fighting!_ from Jongdae, and a series of what he assumes are supposed to be motivational emoticons from Zitao. His friends can occasionally be okay.

He straightens his jacket again and again as he walks up to Kyungsoo's apartment until he forces himself to leave his hands at his sides, fingers clenching into fists. He knocks quickly, dragging the toe of his shoe against the carpet in the hallway while he waits.

The door opens in a rush and there Kyungsoo stands. He's a little out of breath, dressed in a plaid button-up and an adorable bowtie and he grins up at Yifan. “Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Yifan says quickly. Kyungsoo's smile is infectious and Yifan finds him beaming down at him. “You look, wow, great.”

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo says. The tips of his ears are turning red. “You look good too.” He pushes the door open wide, stepping back. “Um, did you want to come in for a second? I'm almost ready.”

Yifan nods in appreciation, and as he walks in, Kyungsoo's hand presses against his back for a second. “Sure,” he agrees easily. He feels a little awkward, just standing in the entrance way, but then Kyungsoo throws him this bright look over his shoulder as he darts into his bedroom to grab his coat. Yifan can feel a flush creeping up his cheeks and he knows, he just _knows_ , that tonight will be great.


End file.
